Coffee
by Kika Moglia
Summary: coffee, books, antiques...my first AU fanfic, not sure about rating yet, we will see


**Hey! Not sure if this is a good idea but who wouldn't risk in their life? :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own OUAT blah blah for all the following chapters if there will be any**

** Chapter 1  
**

She stopped and inhaled the familiar smell. Nothing could compare to those moments. Every time she did this, every time she found herself in places like this, she had to take a moment and just enjoy it. Her nostrils quivered and she opened her eyes. Somehow, this refilled her energy box, making her to go further, full of enthusiasm for new and new experience. Sun played hide and seek with glass and marble, and all those old, ancient things were more than adored in their rusty armors. She stepped right leg forward and slowly walked the alley of honor; stopping at one of the last showpieces. Her eyes shined and her breath almost hitched, she raised her hand and caressed the air as if touching the glass below. The object didn't get her attention for its probable value but for…she didn't know how to describe it. The crown had its best days gone but it still had the beauty, the character of the kindness, the roughness and the mystery. Crown of no one. They didn't know who it belonged to, as the sign on the table was saying. No age, no master. She blinked and smiled.

"I like her," the voice startled her from the left. She looked that way but found no one. Just then she lowered her eyes and found a boy smiling at her.

She returned the smile. "You mean this?" she pointed to the crown.

He nodded his head. "Yep!"

They both watched the thing for a while. Groups of people were moving from one gallery to another, from one piece to the other, chatting, reading, taking pictures, questioning the guide staff…But the charm of the crown kept hold of them and didn't want to let go. Her heart beat became faster, cheerfully, tensed somehow, trapped in the webs of strange royal sign.

"Hey kid," she started with question on her tongue but when she looked to her side again the boy was gone. She looked over her shoulder and smiled to herself, giving one last look to the crown, leaving it to the others to watch and admire.

With her mind still hazed she managed to bump to someone.

"Whoa! S-sorry," she babbled.

"Watch where you're going!" Said the annoyed, deep voice; right after the small hitch of surprise.

The tone of the voice irritated her but the person had every right to be angry.

She looked up to see who she almost knocked off their feet. Her eyes finally focused and could see red knee-length dress hugging beautiful curve of hips, black, short, greatly fitted jacket was covering the arms, the neck of the sculptor's masterpiece. Reaching the chin and deep red lips of the woman, her stomach sunk lower. But it was nothing in comparison to the eyes above, full of dark fire. Not even talking about hair.

"I'm sorry," she repeated herself.

The woman looked at her up and down, putting her hand to her hip, almost snorting. Or at least she got the feeling from the woman.

"Apologize not accepted," the woman said when her eyes matched up with hers again.

It took her aback a little but she wasn't kind of person who would go with something like this. Not that she demanded accepting her apologizes, sometimes it wasn't possible or it was difficult to achieve. However this was just very small incident which she apologized for. Twice. It sounded like a challenge from the self-confident woman in front of her and Emma was the one who accepted. She didn't know what kind of challenge but she did.

"Then I'm sorry, again, but I can't give you more than that." She hinted the step around the woman.

The dark beauty spoke up, "What are you doing here?" She was looking at her seriously, despite the fact it seemed like a joke.

"I don't think that's any of your business." She smiled shortly and if she had a hat she would probably touch it with her finger to say goodbye.

She turned at her heels and finally left the room, entering the other to watch more of the showpieces.

On Friday, she was there again. Watching everything she could, but she didn't have her peace. Yesterday, her peace wasn't at its place, she had few meetings with her clients but she felt urge to come back here. She loved the sound her shoes usually made and it helped to calm her, but today she couldn't hear it. The small building was literally stuffed with families with jabbering children, some already retired people too, lots of students doing their researches… She cursed herself for choosing this time of the day, she could've known that at this time it would be full and not the cozy little place it was on Wednesday.

She walked the few galleries, watching closely everything she found interesting. This place was more than that. There were glorious pieces there, but she could find some other, sometimes really small undistinguished ones that caught her attention which weren't just unidentified, but there was something special about them. She stopped especially at the small broken compass. She felt slight tug of sorrow as if the compass symbolized something special to her, but she couldn't explain why. She was sure she didn't see it before.

When she was finally leaving, with her hands in the pockets of her unbuttoned coat, she caught a glimpse of the woman from the other day, standing at one of the columns, watching the whole gallery, her hands resting on one another in her lap.

_Maybe she's waiting for someone. A kid? No, she's not a parental type. She looks like and independent woman with no issues that would tie her to the usual grey life of the common people. _

That all went through her mind when she went out to the city, smoggy air, the street's noise was much more calming than the one inside. She looked around not having anything special planned. People were passing by her at the stairs where she stopped.

She wandered the street and didn't have to do that long in the rain that was starting to fall because she just found what she was looking for. The café didn't receive much attention but she found it charming. Interior was full of smoke and intimidating smell of freshly roasted coffee. She forced her way to the table at a farthest corner, hanging her coat on a rack, sitting down on a soft chair.

"Ma'am?" Waiter put coffee with small apple pie on the table and left her to her own thoughts.

She wanted to call after him that she hasn't ordered anything yet but then she spotted the answer leaned against the sugar shaker.

_**ROYAL CAFÉ **_

_**COFFEE AND APPLES FOR THE BEST EXPERIENCE IN WORLDS OF IMAGIATION**_

It looked like in the building she escaped from. Not that it was that marble, wood and glass, but the atmosphere reminded her of the place. Antiques were at every step; even some ornaments were incredibly similar.

Anyway she liked the place and slowly sipped the fantastic coffee while biting off few pieces of the pie. She even found fully loaded bookshelves. This time she asked the waiter about them and he answered her positively. Not many cafes offer this kind of service.

She took the one with precisely engraved golden title and got lost herself in it for a few hours with regular delivery of new cups of coffee.

It was dark outside when she finally closed the book and stretched her arms a little. There were a lot more people in the café now, even the level of noise increased.

_I suppose they're open also at night. _She remembered this kind of cafes from her 'trips' to Europe. Cafes where all the famous artists (especially writers and composers) gathered or just sat there, drank coffee, maybe something tougher and inspirited and encouraged wrote concepts of their best pieces. _I should definitely come here again. _

Not once. Not twice. She was there every day now. It almost made her to start thinking about writing her own book. She declined the idea right away and after every meeting she spent all her free time at these two buildings. Seeing every day same people. Waiters in the café who knew her by first name now, the woman of shadows, as she named the one who was always hiding in darker places, hidden from everyone's sight but could see everything, and the boy who she made friends with. Mostly she was just reading, sometimes she brought her researches there and worked in the pleasing environment.

After few weeks the idea came to her mind. It surprised her why she hasn't thought about it before. Or maybe she did – the first time she walked in with intention to offer her services or just to look around to get to know the museum better.

As she ran from the last town where she worked (mostly) she had to make her name somewhere else, in the right way.

She decided to go to the museum first thing in the morning.

She had to stop at her favorite pieces. It became kind of a ritual now. She seen the boy and waved him hi but didn't wait for him to catch up and headed directly to the stairs which lead to only two stories of the building. She climbed up to the second floor for her business. Hallway wasn't that long but it gave her uncomfortable feeling of sinking Titanic. She tried to shake it off and not to walk from wall to wall. She managed to get to her target door which read _Managing Director._ No name, just the common sign.

She knocked on the wood and waited for a reply. After few seconds of no breathing she was relieved to hear, even if annoyed, "Come in!" as if she was disturbing in the most inappropriate moment.

Opening the door she couldn't believe her eyes even if the voice could've given her some clue. The familiar black suit jacket was hugging and revealing right places of the body which's owner she knew very well.

The woman didn't raise her eyes from the papers she was working on.

"What do you want?" She asked; irritation in her voice too obvious. Her dark hair were perfectly neat, delicate hands, despite to the level of grumpiness, were calm, one still running the paper with pen smoothly, leaving specific patterns of words behind.

The director rolled her eyes when she didn't get the answer and looked up eventually. She probably wasn't surprised or she just didn't show it as she repeated her question.

"Hi! I'm…My name's Emma Swan…" She extended her hand.

The brunette didn't even flicker at that and just stared at her sternly, almost challengingly lifting her chin.

"I visited your museum for a few times and I found it really interesting. I thought I might offer my services to you." Emma smiled, still standing before the woman.

"Offer your services…and what would that be?" The brunette asked with half smile, looking her up and down.

_Is she flirting with me?_ But it took her probably too long to answer because as if someone put an icy film on the woman, her features hardened and she had that bored and annoyed look back on her face, maybe thinking that Emma didn't get what she had on mind.

"We're not interested. Goodbye, Miss Swan!" The older woman shifted her attention back to her paperwork, considering the conversation over.

"You didn't give me the chance to tell you what services I offer." Emma reminded her.

The brunette sighed and closed the pen, putting it aside and looking at the blonde again. She motioned to one of the armchairs in front of her desk.

Nothing else came from the woman, so she supposed she should start.

"I'm a relic hunter, basically. And I would like to hunt for you…"

She continued maybe for another fifteen minutes but brunette didn't seem to be much impressed. Her facial expression hardly ever changed during Emma's speech.

Awkward silence filled the office after she finished.

The director took a breath to reject her offer again when the door opened.

"Regina, I've got…oh, sorry." The man with accent of flu filled nose apologized and left the room silently, not waiting if Regina invites him in or sends him back. He knew what to do without any words.

Emma was happy that the glare of the woman moved to the man for a while but at a same time the nervousness or fear of losing her attention poked her under her ribs.

But now she was in her spotlight again.

"Is that it, Miss Swan?"

"Emma," she tried to smile.

Regina didn't react to that.

Emma's smile fell from her face as fast as it appeared. She nodded, avoiding Regina's eyes.

"Then you're free to go."

"But…were you even listening to me?" She thought about her speech not being so bad and sure she had her not that bad reputation and this museum was beautiful but had to have some more of new and interesting pieces. It had lots of objects to study, explore and future findings maybe. Now she wanted the job more than anything. She didn't know lust for this museum and its treasures grown so huge.

But the director didn't or didn't want to feel it from her.

The idea of hitting the desk with her fist crossed her mind as she rose from the armchair, for the woman to wake up and listen to her.

"Fine! You want proof? Give me few days and I'll find something that will satisfy your tastes and will more than fit to your museum. Museum of what exactly this is?"

Regina raised her eyebrow as if it wasn't obvious, but then thinking about Emma's offer she smiled shortly, very politely and coldly.

Emma already felt like on a roller-coaster. She didn't know if she's regretting going here and so stubbornly asking for job but it definitely was there somewhere in her head.

The mistress of the museum finally rose from her chair, showing the black tight skirt that hardly reached her knees and walked to the filing cabinet. It didn't take her long to find the file. She turned back to Emma and dramatically, maybe too much, she handed it to the blonde.

"I expect this one shouldn't be a problem for you." She handed the file to the other woman, standing very close, her eyes sizing Emma up once again.

Emma felt the tension, just couldn't decide if it's disgusting or pleasant. She managed to open the file and smiled to herself. It was challenge all the time.

**Please, please, please, let me know what you think! Thanks a lot! **


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